


Empty your Bucket (1/2)

by soazzar



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Gen, Sexual Reference, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19321948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soazzar/pseuds/soazzar
Summary: Reader goes into a fight with Micha Bell in camp





	Empty your Bucket (1/2)

Hi! It’s my first fic ever, and english isn’t my mother tongue, but I was willing to bring something to the rdr fandom... I've posted it on my tumblr but here seems to be a nice place :)  
Gender neutral reader - 1.9 k words

Empty your Bucket - Part 1

 

Clemens Point weather was quite heavy these lasts days, and it doesn’t help you to relax. You were tense, not only because of the temperature and the usual camp’s situations but mostly because Micah was back. This slummy bastard, always says trash, behave like a pig, you can’t help yourself but keep an eye on the girls, on Jack and on Arthur. It wasn’t your job, they could handle themselves, except for Jack maybe, but, anyway… You didn’t miss him since your way down to Horseshoe Overlook, you were pleased that he get caught in Strawberry… But you try, at first, to find him at least one quality, just one, but it never happens. And now, every time he spokes, especially towards Arthur, you fell the urge to punch him damn hard. Few days ago you had an altercation with him, he pushes you nasty and you didn’t answer, trying to act like you don’t give a shit. The next day he threatens to gut you, pretending it was a joke. The situation was getting worse and worse from you point of view.

Arthur saw that and goes up to speak with you, a little chat like always when you weren’t all alone, nothing big, just to ensure himself you was okay.

“Easy there.” what was he said “Calm down, don’t waste your time on it.” He’s part of the gang. 

God damn it.

***

Later that day, doing your usual cores related to the horses, you passed by the poker table, behind the big tree, carrying a bucket of water, and there, there you hear him, you saw his look on Abigail, how disrespectful he can be, acting like a…

“…go fetch us some food fat pig, that’s it.”

Pearson leaves the table, hurt in some ways. You turn towards him.

“Don’t be surprise, little man still needs his bibber”, you say. Pearson smiles a bit and walks away to his wagon.

“What ‘ya say, cowpoke?” Micah stood up to face you, keeping distances though.

You know he doesn’t like you, and it was mutual. Even a blind man could see, without a single dollar.

“Lazy, coward and deaf? C’mon! Could anyone be worse than that?” You pointed Micah with your chin and had a glimpse over Abigail’s face, visibly amused by this exchange, still well seated in her chair.

“I see you could speak when you don’t have Arthur’s dick down your throat, dirty thing.”

Oh, here we go. Can’t tell he’s entirely wrong. You stood upright and let the bucket hit the ground, tightening your fists.

“Ah! ‘seems I'm not the only one. How’s Dutch’s one?”

You hear a voice in the back, maybe Hosea, about to calming down. But you didn’t bother, looking sternly into Micah eyes, waiting for he’s next move, the atmosphere tense. He makes a step forward, shaking a bit of anger maybe. You were now facing each other, and he was clearly unpleased. You stay confident with a neutral look on your face.

“Sullied dead wood” He spat on the ground, aiming your feet for sure, but miss.

“Am I facing their king? I should bend the knee then…” you grin a little amused. This one was easy.

Once again, you hear a voice in the back, asking for the two of you to stop, your turn slightly your eyes, breaking the contact with Micah for less than a second. It was Hosea, standing near his tent, with frowned greys eyebrows.

Within this little second, Micah punches you right in the eye, you were taking by surprise, he hits you pretty well. But you will fight back this time, oh yes you will. You weren’t strong as Micah but you were more agile.

You recedes your feet, and with your both hands you catch his elbow and wrist, and you tore them, gripping it firmly, you can’t break the bones, but it hurts pretty well too.

Hosea shouts in the back.

“Horsefucker!” Micah gasps.

This time you have seen his fist coming toward your face again, you dodge it once, twice, still holding his arm in a weird angle, but third one hits you, harder than the first time. You feel blood in your mouth, not enough to spat but enough to grunt. You also feel all the anger you had toward him bursts, all this tension explodes, all the hate spreads. Weapons weren’t allowed in camp for some reasons, but you go fighting. You give a strong kick in his chest with your feet, he goes backward a bit. And at this point, things go really fast.

Ongoing, bracing yourself, you rush forward aiming his legs, you want to make him fall, and you did; hats were flying away.

Both on the ground, hits rain from both sides. His fists and feet hammered you a few times, bloods starts to splutter, your lips didn’t last untouched. But you riposte well, cracking his nose.

A girl screams in the back, maybe Mary-Beth, or Tilly. Guys shout, you cannot tell who, footsteps getting towards you. All matters for you now were to beat this rat to death if you could, or as much as possible. Orange dust invaded the air since the wrestling continues.

You were on top, slamming his face with your fists a few times, blood splatted all over his mustache, your knuckles starting to be bruised. This bastard begins to laugh. You dig your spurs into his hips and he puts one of his hands on your face, thumbs and fingers pressing your cheeks, so you bite it to the blood, until he lets off. You slipped two fingers inside his mouth, between the teeth and the cheek, trying your best to rip it off.

You were interrupted when one hand gripping you throat strongly, cutting your breath. A second hand was added and air starts missing. Rushing, thinking fast, you didn’t try too loose yourself. You were now aiming his eyes, pressing your thumbs into their orbits, firmly, coldly, but deeper mostly. Tears start dripping along your cheeks, down your jawline. But the pressure from his hands lowers a bit. 

“I’ll kill…” He starts.

“Son of a b…” your voice was thin, low.

He yells, of anger or frustration, blinded. Distracted by this, you didn’t feel one of his hands leaves your throat, getting down to something.

Your vision starts to blurry when you feel someone ram into you hard, like horse in full gallop, on your shoulders and bringing you down. Oddly, your head didn’t hit the ground; you try to look up, above you, since you feel an heavy weight on your back.

It was Arthur, you recognize him by his scent, yes, you were this kind of b… of person.

He took you off Micah, holding you tight against him and on the ground, one arm around your throat the other around your, your… you can’t figure it out.

“For chrissake STOP!” Arthur’s voice was full of concern. You simply freeze and didn’t move anymore, trying to recompose, breathing heavily.

The full gang was packed there looking at you and Micah, still lying to the ground, a strange silence took place. Only Sean was having a great time, quite disappointed that the show was already finished.

The silence doesn’t last long, Dutch bursted out of his tent, feet smashing the ground, face torn by contrariety. You give a small tap on Arthur’s arm, acknowledging him you were choking there, his grip looses, and he helps you to get up.

“Are you all becoming mad here? Someone explains, quick.”

Fights happen sometimes in camp, people stuck with others like this could not be always easy, but this time, things go a little bit out of hand.

Dutch’s head turns to you, to Micah, to you, to Micah again and finally stays on you. He speaks again but slowly. Gang’s members smoothly split up too, going back to their occupations. Only Bill, Charles, Susan, Hosea, Arthur and Abigail, who didn’t left her chair, stay.

“Y/N?”

You didn’t have time to answer that Hosea speaks. You didn’t know if you could answer anyway. By the words he uses, you can tell he was trying to defend you, but you weren’t sure, since your name appears a lot of time in his speech. But in the end, he looks at you and gives a small smile.

“And you, Micah?”

No answers came up. Dutch repeats the question, still no words come.

“You didn’t kill him don’t ya?” Arthur asking you lowly, voice tainted with amusement.

He stays behind you since you get up, holding you firmly by the shoulders, certainly feeling that you could fall or go back finishing Micah, so you leant quite on him, resting a bit.

Charles bends down to Micah, checking him or something like that, for what you care anyway…

“He fainted.”

You puffed, this bastard faints. He lost the fight, he lost against you. What a nice day, except with your open lips, black and swollen eyes, some wounds there and there on your cheeks, red finger marks on your neck, bruised knuckles and your dizzy head. He fainted.

“I didn’t find it comical, Y/N.” Dutch’s look wasn’t kind, detaching all syllables by speaking. “We have rules here and I …”

“He had a knife in his hand” Charles interrupts, simply pointing Micah’s hand and go away; this man was always so detached in every damn situation, you wonder if he was only human.

That sneaky little horseshit, he would gladly stab you in the ribs if he could have. But this, right now, drives Dutch even more irate.

Throwing his arms into the air Dutch explodes. 

“Madlads, that’s all! Ungrateful bastards! Can’t I have a damn day of peace and quiet? If you can’t behave yourselves how am I supposed to find a way out of this mess for all of us! Out of my sight, all o’you!” He head back to his tent, shooting into the bucket you drop before, folding it. Half way he turns around “Arthur, with me.”

Arthur looks into your eyes – into the rest of your eyes– concerned by your condition, not sure if he could leave you like this. You give him a slight nod and smile; you were a tough one after all. He sighs, giving a soothing pressure on your arms and then go, following Dutch.

You stay there shaking your head and stroking your hurting neck. Hosea takes the lead, asking Bill to take still unconscious Micah elsewhere than the middle of the camp, giving cores to the others to move on. Susan proposed to help you, leading you near the girl’s wagons. Sitting on a box, she applies a rag soaked in alcohol or water to your wounds, depending of the state of your flesh, you spat blood on the ground, smiling to yourself.

“Don’t turn feral, would you?” She handles you an handkerchief, rolling her eyes, you took it to clean you bottom lips, a mixture of blood and saliva still dripping from it. Miss Grimshaw wasn’t proud of you, at first you thought she would slap your ass off for what you just did, instead she stares at you for a minute and leaves. By your own for now, covered in dust, not willing to move yet, you grab a bottle which was lying on another box, rinse your mouth and drink a gulp. Cores was still waiting for you, so you better get back to it before incurring Dutch’s wrath even more. That’s was your plan, until you saw Arthur looking for you.

***


End file.
